A local man who won €18,400 in a local GAA lottery has refused to quietly give the money back to the club as per custom.
The unwritten and unspoken rule, which knits together the very fabric of Gaelic life, dates back to Brehon law.
The man only spoke to The Faa Side on the condition of anonymity.
“I’ve been hounded. Me family’s been hounded. One old woman even spat at me in the butchers. And the priest dropped me communion on the ground at mass, never broke eye contact neither.”
The man, from a soccer playing housing estate, was peer pressured into buying the ticket in a pub while out socialising with friends. Initially he threw in 20 cent thinking he was going to get a fleg. But he was quickly pulled up on it and reluctantly handed over a €2 coin, much to the enjoyment of his so-called mates.
“The collector wouldn’t give me me 20 cent back neither. Said he couldn’t open the tin, that it was time locked or some other GAA bullshit.”
He was handed a ticket and gave his name and contact details. He remembered thinking at the time that there was no chance he’d win – he wasn’t a club member and was wearing a soccer jersey and a Neymar headband at the time. He was actually going to give a fake name but couldn’t think of a good one under pressure.
“I fucking hate the GAA. I’m not one of those cunts what goes on the Hill during the Champship. I’ve always thought the gaelic was a load a shite. I’m a football man. And I don’t mean that League of Ireland or Celtic nonsense. I mean real football. In England an that.”
Three days later he received a phone call. It was from the secretary of the local club informing him of his windfall. Nineteen big ones.
“Did I think it was a piss take? Fckn sure I did! Did I spend all the money within a week? A fair aul chunk of it went on new alloys and a Notorious tatt…”
The secretary then asked him was he aware of how things worked around here. Nineteen big ones, he thought. I might be from Dublin but I know how tings work alright. Ten minutes later the money was resting in his account. Once he confirmed the transfer with the secretary he hung up, hit Gleesons and got pixilated.
“They started calling up to the gaff they did, looking for the money back! They’re getting the under 11s to strip for training on me front lawn. Cheeky fucks.
“I told them I’d won it fair and square and they could all fuck off aourrofit. Now I’m being boycotted like a dirty Protestant.
“Some fella shouldered me in the queue at Aldi and the lad in the bookies ate all me bets.”
The man has threatened to go public unless the treatment stops.